She was lying on her belly, crouched in the grass, concealed by the darkness.
Nearly blind, she could not see the stars, save one. And that was a planet. Venus. Goddess of Love.
She wished her own true love would happen upon the midnight garden where she lay.
The neighbor rattled a squeaky door frame, and the woman shuddered. And prayed that no skunks would visit her resting place tonight. Funny, she noticed, it's a bit like being dead and buried. And then she pondered being buried in her own backyard, and fancied that she would not like that at all.
The woman could not sleep. Not inside the house. Not outside the house.
"Would you, could you, with a fox?
Would you, could you, in a box?"
"I would not, could not with a fox!
I would not, could not in a box!"
The old poems are springing into her wavering thoughts.